Okay gentlemen, we need to talk

Dear Guys Who Play Hockey and Have to Share a Locker Room with a Woman,

Lookit. If I were freaked out by seeing your weiner flapping around or by you seeing me changing, I'd go change in the women's restroom.

And frankly, if I'm okay with it, being the fairer sex and all, then you should be okay with me seeing it.

We're all adults here (except for the ones who aren't) and the silly giggling when your buddy has the, um, stones to go ahead and change with me there (and probably did something obscene behind my back... yeah, I know how y'all are) is just being a baby.

Here's the bottom line, fellas: YOU are WAAAAAY more into your junk than any woman is. I frankly just don't care, and I think most women (especially women who are ballsy enough to play hockey with you guys a few nights a week) would agree, that thing only has one job that we care about.

What's more, I respect that some guys are a little more shy, so I keep my eyes to the floor, stay busy with my stuff, and I change my own bottom layer in the bathroom. Just based on the reaction of me being in the room, I think they'd all just fall over dead if I changed in there myself.

And it's not like I'm sitting there in my corner with score cards. "Oh yeah, you over there who skates like Clutterbuck, you're a 7.5." So, please, get over yourself. Take the age-old advice of "act like you've been there."

Sincerely,

The Chick Goalie

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Phew. Okay. Now that that's off my chest, drop-in was good tonight, if a bit irregular.

First, I left my good water bottle at Willowbrook Sunday, so I was using one I don't like as much AND I was out of Gatorade powder. I figured I'd just buy some Gatorade at the rink but for some reason, I walked right past the machine with G'ade and didn't see it.

Ended up filling up with water and for an hour and 45 minute ice time, I need electrolytes. I felt like I was gonna hurl the last 30 minutes.

And then I guess a guy who works at the rink is a goalie and since we were short one, he suited up and came out about 30 minutes into our game. It was late enough that we ended up never switching ends, so I had the better team the whole game. They actually played D clear to the end of the game, which was a blessing.

For some reason, the other goalie skated up to center ice late in the game and starts yelling at one of my forwards. I'm not sure what that was about, but I was really hoping for a fight. Had his mask off and everything. Weird, but a little crazy goalie never hurt anyone. Gotta keep these skaters in line.

I actually had to pull myself out of my net for a little bit at the end because my sweatband was so soaked, I was getting a TON of sweat in my eyes and couldn't even keep my eyes open. Burning! Ouch.

Anyway, in spite of all the weirdness, I felt like I played one of my best Tuesdays, though like I said, having real defense the whole game helped a lot and made it a lot more fun. I frustrated a few guys when I stopped stuff they thought they had for sure. Man, that's a good feeling.

5-hole was rock solid. Glove was pretty bad. Angles were good. I realize now I'd gotten really lazy about staying square to the puck. I still am, but recognizing the problem is the first step, right? Even made one big diving save that I normally wouldn't have made, but I swore that I'm going to be more balls out about just getting anything in front of the puck, even if it sometimes leaves me down and out for a few seconds. As KC says, gotta bring a certain level of compete.

My right hip was so janky all day and I thought it was going to be a problem, but once I got warm, it wasn't an issue at all. We'll see how it feels tomorrow. I think I'll go to bed with some Advil on board. I'm feeling good but it's probably still adrenaline for now.

Anyway, great night, in spite of all the oddness and men acting like babies.

In honor of the Wild's enormous comeback tonight after being down 3-0, John Scott shoving Parros' 'stache down his throat, and firing off a 4 unanswered goals to win in overtime (um, Jiggy... stick on the ice in front of that 5-hole, buddy):

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